


I Say I Don't Want That (but maybe i do)

by CharWright5



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe- Soul Mates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Derek Hale/ Stiles Stilinski, But also not, Canon Compliant, I play fast and loose with canon, M/M, Minor Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Omega Deucalion, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Past Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Slow Build, Soul Mate Marks, background Lydia Martin/ Jordan Parrish, like an actual teen wolf writer, wtf is a season six?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-05 21:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharWright5/pseuds/CharWright5
Summary: Scott has never really been one for Soul Mates...especially when he meets his... until his mind is changed as months pass.





	I Say I Don't Want That (but maybe i do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GarsLoup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarsLoup/gifts).

> Commission for the wonderful Gaelle who wanted Scott/Deucalion Soul Mate AU and I decided canon would be good for some angst, mwahaha!!
> 
> Title from "Archer" by Taylor Swift

Scott McCall wasn't one for Soul Mates. His parents had been a fated pair, Marks on their arms matching to create a whole image, but then his father had turned out to be an alcoholic and bailed on them. Sheriff Stilinski and his wife had been Soul Mates, but then she'd died and he'd been left all alone. Scott witnessed countless pairs fight and bicker and split and be forced apart and it all made him wonder why anyone bothered. Just because of some stupid black smudge on their arm.

So he ignored his, the stupid half-circles, one inside the other. Sometimes he'd take a marker and draw the other half, deciding he didn't need anyone to complete him. Most of the time, he kept it covered with long sleeves.

His best friend Stiles Stilinski—son of the aforementioned Sheriff and his deceased Soul Mate—did the same, layering flannels or hoodies or both over his graphic tees, hiding his Mark from his dad and the sad look he'd sometimes get at the sight of it. Stiles had once confessed to Scott that he was terrified that his fate would match his parents, that his Soul Mate would die as well, and after years of witnessing his dad breaking down, he didn't want to turn out the same. So he ignored his Mark, too, opted to pine over the gorgeous Lydia Martin, whose Mark matched another's and was way out of his league. It felt safer that way.

Scott sometimes wondered if he and Stiles weren't Soul Mates of a different kind, fated to be best friends and brothers from other mothers.

The two charged through life like two boys who only had each other could. There were sleepovers and secrets, mischief and melancholy, fun and fights. There was getting into trouble and going where they weren't supposed to and doing it again anyway. There was Stiles carrying Scott's spare inhaler and Scott carrying extra pens because Stiles always forgot his. There was Scott presenting as an Alpha and Stiles presenting as an Omega and the two of them promising to never let their secondary genders affect their friendship in any way.

There was sneaking out late at night to look for half a dead body, a strange attack, and Stiles helping Scott in realizing Werewolves were real, that he'd just become one.

Then there was Allison Argent: beautiful, compassionate, Mark-less.

Scott had been smitten from first sight.

~*~*~*~*~*~

No one truly knew why some were born without Marks or what it meant. Some theorized it was because that person or their Soul Mate were actually fated to die, but Scott thought that was bullshit, thinking of Stiles' parents. Scott believed it was because the Mark-less were lucky, not unfortunate the way most people claimed, but rather blessed with a freedom few had. They could choose their own fate, their own partners.

And for some crazy reason, Allison chose Scott.

Because despite the Mark on his arm saying his destiny had been decided, Scott found himself attracted to her, this tough as nails Beta who didn't let fate knock her down but rather pushed forwards as she chose to forge her own path, write her own destiny. Scott fell for her hard, in spite of all the obstacles and reasons he should stay away.

Besides, the way he saw things, it was better than Stiles' fate.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Derek Hale scared the shit out of both boys. Brooding, intense, threatening, an angry aura constantly hanging about him. The Alpha intimidated them, making it all the more surprising when he came to them for help after being shot with a wolfsbane bullet.

The bigger shock came in the back of the Beacon Hills Veterinary Clinic, when Derek had apparently whipped off his shirt in a demand for Stiles to cut off his arm...only for Stiles to grow distracted by the half snowflake on his forearm, still visible through poisoned, blackened veins, perfectly matching the one Stiles' had on his own right forearm.

He and Stiles got drunk in the park—or at least Scott tried to—soon after, toasting the shitty hands fate had dealt them both and solidifying their stances to forget the Marks on their arms and choose for themselves.

Life went on, ever growing and changing. Scott's fake break-up with Allison turned real, her mom tried to kill him then died herself, Allison lost herself for a while. Derek became someone Scott trusted and turned to for advice and he watched as glances between the older Alpha and his Omega best friend grew longer and more meaningful, the scents between them shifting. Jackson left, Boyd and Erica ran away, Isaac was rescued, and Scott got a tattoo turned brand to commemorate the past few months of not calling Allison or giving in to what his broken heart wanted—as well as an attempt to lessen the significance of the concentric circles Soul Mate Mark he'd long since rejected.

Yet...

Yet his life still felt like it was slowly, steadily moving along. Maybe it was the peaceful summer that had crawled out with the speed of thick molasses, days spent studying, playing video games, working at the clinic. Full moons broke the monotony of days that'd blended together, ticking by at a snail's pace without the threat of hunters or anything supernatural.

It all changed when he caught sight of the graffiti Derek had tried to hide, a story about a Pack of Alpha Werewolves, the threat the group posed. Scott felt his heart pounding and stomach flipping and skin prickling at the angular triskele he'd uncovered, born of fear and something he couldn't put a name to. All he knew was that he felt a huge sense of foreboding, the belief that something big was coming, somehow knowing his life was about to change in a major way.

His destiny was calling, as cheesy as it felt, and Scott wondered if fate was something he could even fight against, much less win.

~*~*~*~*~*~

In spite of everything that happened between them, Scott still loved Allison. To him, it didn't matter that they weren't supposed to be together, weren't Soul Mates or fated or anything like that. His attraction to her had never waned, his affection for her had only grown, and he'd even confessed to her that he'd wait for as long as she needed to be with her again. The Mark on his arm claimed his future was to be with another, but his heart was telling him Allison was the one he wanted, the one he was fated to be with.

So he stayed by her side through it all, supported her through the grieving process with her mom, helped her and her dad move when they downsized to an apartment, gave her space when she asked but reminded her he was only a phone call away.

And it was at said apartment when the foreboding and sense of something huge looming all came to a head and his anxious anticipation became clearer.

Scott had known the Alpha Pack was in town. He'd had a run-in with one of them at the hospital, had fought the freaky combining twins, had heard about them from Isaac, Boyd, and Cora. Meeting one in the elevator of the Argents' apartment building wasn't something he'd expected though.

The Blind Alpha. The Demon Wolf. The Alpha of All Alphas. Deucalion had many names and his reputation preceded him. Stories about him had become legends and Scott was hard pressed to tell what was real and what was fictionalized, blown out of proportion.

In that elevator, Scott made judgments of his own.

At first glance, Deucalion seemed harmless, just a regular blind man, cane and all. He was fairly attractive, Scott had to admit. Not in the conventional way like Derek, but his own individual way. Soft sandy hair, tan skin, a worldliness about him that spoke of a life well lived and traveled, educated through experience.

The fact that he was an Omega was surprising but Scott had long since learned not to believe stereotypes about weak Omegas thanks to both his mom and Stiles.

The Mark on the inside of his right forearm was even more shocking.

Because it perfectly lined up to the one located on the inside of Scott's left forearm.

Scott's Soul Mate was a man trying to recruit him and Derek into their Pack by having them kill all their friends.

Fuck.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Scott didn't remember most—if any, really—of the conversation he had with Deucalion. His mind fuzzed down to nothing but the revelation over who his Soul Mate was and how fate seemed to get a kick out of fucking people over with this sort of thing.

He did, however, remember hearing how Deucalion threatened Derek in his loft, Derek plummeting to his assumed death, the hallucinations at that cursed motel as Scott watched what appeared to be Deucalion ripping his mother's throat out. He remembered threats from Ethan regarding Ennis' death, Derek being okay but now sleeping with their English teacher, Boyd's murder and Stiles trying to comfort his Soul Mate, only for Ms Blake to get in the way. He remembered another attempt at getting drunk and an all night bitch-fest with Stiles as they once again lamented their lot in life, not naming his Soul Mate but making it clear he wasn't someone Scott would ever wanna be with.

Life seemed to be going by at a million miles per hour, rushing to what felt an inevitable climax. Because it wasn't _just_ the Alpha Pack and Soul Mate revelations, it was Lydia emerging as a Banshee and ritualistic murders and an evil Darach and Deaton going missing and talk of a True Alpha and...

And Stiles' dad went missing, Ms Blake turned out to be the villain, and Scott honestly thought Stiles was personally going to kill her for taking two of the most important people from him. But instead, they were off to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, where a storm had knocked out the power, trying to save Cora, trying to run from the Alpha Pack, trying to get the sheriff back.

Only instead, Scott's mom was taken and he felt his world fall out from under his feet.

It felt strangely odd yet appropriate that it was Deucalion he met up on that roof, Deucalion offering him a chance to save her. It was difficult yet easy to turn away from his lifelong best friend to side with his Soul Mate and Scott tried not to think about it too deeply.

He failed at that, too, wondering about Deucalion's motives, if he was offering help to prove he wasn't the villain, if he was doing so in order to convince Scott to join his Pack or because he was also aware of their status as Soul Mates. The man was blind, true, but even without seeing their conjoining Marks, Scott could still _feel_ the connection between the two of them, could feel the way his heart raced and stomach flipped and skin tingled and Mark burned. Deucalion had to be experiencing it as well.

Not that it mattered if Deucalion could tell or not. Not that it mattered if the Soul Mate connection was Deucalion's motivation for aiding Scott. The young Alpha wasn't going to let it influence him in any way, wasn't going to have this be the first step in them becoming anything more than tenuous allies united against a shared foe. If anything, this was Scott using all available resources to save his mom.

For her, he'd give anything and everything.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The night of the lunar eclipse felt like the perfect night for a climatic fight, like a television writer had scripted it for a big season finale episode. It wasn't just the culmination of the past few months, but almost of a lifetime, resulting in Scott standing alongside his Soul Mate as they both sought to end the Darach's reign of terror.

Seeing Derek on the other side felt like a betrayal, especially when Scott thought about how the father of Derek's Soul Mate was still at risk. It made him wonder how he could do that to Stiles, only to remember his own thoughts regarding pre-destined pairs. Derek could feel just like Scott, believing that just because fate had told him this was who he was meant to be with didn't mean he _had_ to be. Stiles may have been hoping for that, even if he tried to hide it, but Scott wasn't and neither of them really knew how Derek felt regarding it all.

But then the fighting got underway and Derek switched allegiances. The eclipse came and went, powers going then coming back. Scott broke through the mountain ash barrier and activated True Alpha powers.

The Darach got the upper hand on Deucalion and Scott felt a fear exactly like when he'd realized his mom had been taken.

Quick thinking had him reminding Ms Blake that Deucalion had never seen her true face, playing off her need for revenge and the suffering of those she believed had wronged her. Her rage had made her the truly blind one and with his vision restored, Deucalion was able to beat her, to come out victorious.

When the metaphorical dust settled, three men were left standing in a long abandoned warehouse, Deucalion's now working eyes taking in images they hadn't been able to for a long time.

Or ever really, Scott realizing, watching as pale orbs looked over Derek, then Scott, finally settling on the exposed Mark on his left forearm. Deucalion's eyes went wide in recognition and the air filled with the scent of caramel, sweet and tempting and obviously belonging to the only Omega amongst them.

Eyes met Scott's, hopeful and curious, and he had the absent thought of how Deucalion's power of intimidation had seemed to come more from the stories and people surrounding him. But now Ennis was dead, Kali, too, the twins fighting for their lives at Deaton's. Deucalion was alone, vulnerable, more human, and Scott found himself wondering if maybe he'd met this version of the Omega, he might feel differently about Soul Mates and the one he'd been given.

Not that it mattered at that point, Scott knew, pushing away the thought as quickly as it'd come to him.

“That's not why I did that,” Scott clarified and Deucalion nodded while Derek glanced back and forth between the pair's forearms before not so subtly covering his own with his clasped hand.

Three men were left standing in a long abandoned warehouse, all three with Soul Mates, all three resigned to life without their other half. Deucalion had been granted a second chance out of Scott's compassion for anyone living, allowed to leave because Scott believed he was worthy of redemption, unwelcome due to Scott's unwillingness to fall into fate's trap.

Three men parted ways, two of them to destinations unknown, Scott to wherever his mother was, then to find Stiles so he could deliver the apology Derek had just extended.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Time ticked by once again. Darkness ate away at Scott, payment or punishment for the ritual he'd undergone with Allison and Stiles in a desperate bid to find their parents. Stiles seemed to be the most unmoored and Scott believed it was because Omegas were always the most affected by the severing of any Soul Mate bond, especially when they had no say in the matter. Allison moved on with Isaac, Scott gave in to a developing crush on the new girl Kira Yukimura, and Stiles turned out to be haunted by something more than just the absence of Derek.

Time sped up again.

Nogitsunes, Kitsunes, Oni. The death of Allison, the loss of Isaac, the welcoming of Malia Tate, the disappearance of Derek once more. The Pack felt fluctuating, ever changing. Kira and Malia had matching Marks and Scott hid the sting of once again watching an ex fall for someone else. He saved the life of an Omega by giving him the Bite and welcomed him to their motley crew. He braced himself for Derek's death and fought back guilt-centered nausea when he looked at an ignorant Stiles.

Supernatural assassins, Berserkers, the return of Kate Argent. Deputy Parrish as a god knows what, as well as Lydia's Soul Mate. Stiles' worst fears realized as he watched Derek die in Mexico, followed by his resurrection and another departure so he could track Kate, believing it was his family's fault she was a Were-Jaguar and therefore up to him to fix that mistake.

Scott spent another night watching Stiles get drunk over his Soul Mate, this time wondering where Deucalion was, what he was doing, if he was okay.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Senior year came after another calm summer during which Scott feared he was becoming too complacent. Liam's inability to handle full moons helped break up any boredom, as did Stiles' constant planning over their post-graduation lives. The absence of Derek had spread into an anxiety filled obsessive need to keep the Pack together, into their college years and beyond, and Scott found his thoughts drifting to Deucalion more and more often.

Memories and reminders of Allison became less painful, nightmares and contemplations and 'what-if's less frequent. Senior Scribe Night had him writing her initials next to his own, knowing she'd always be beside him, even if it wasn't physically anymore.

The return of his elementary school friend Theo Raeken had been a surprise. Theo being in cahoots with those trying to kill Scott and his mishmosh of a Pack wasn't. And neither was the way the action and hardships ramped up, like the beginning of a new semester was a trigger for anything evil to emerge and attempt to take them down. It'd happened the past two school years; obviously his final one in high school wasn't gonna be any different.

Only this time felt worse, felt... _more_. There was the emergence of Chimeras and their murders. There was Stiles reeking of anxiety more than usual plus the added scent of guilt. There was Lydia almost dying then being institutionalized at Eichen. There was Malia acting distant and Kira losing control and Deaton going missing and Liam getting angry and Scott's being unable to breathe from the pressure and reemergence of his asthma.

He verbally fought with Stiles and lost him.

He physically fought with Liam and lost him.

He physically fought with Theo... and lost his life.

His mom fought to bring him back and Scott fought to reunite his Pack. He talked to Stiles and went after Kira and made up with Liam...who told him that Theo was after a Blind Alpha and Scott felt his heart stop once more.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The number had been in his phone for nearly a year, but not once had Scott ever considered calling it, not even on the loneliest nights when his thoughts drifted to Deucalion. He'd always managed to talk himself out of it, remembering why he'd told the Omega to leave rather than ask him to stay. Soul Mates only brought pain, a fact he truly believed, had watched play out repeatedly, with his parents, Stiles' parents, Stiles himself, the distance forming between Malia and Kira, the anguish on Lydia's face as she tried to keep Parrish from losing himself.

But Scott had already suffered the intense burning sting of loss, with Allison, with his Pack, with his own life. Deucalion's absence was a cauterized wound he often found himself tracing over, the Mark on his left forearm a reminder of what should be but wasn't, just like those around him. Lydia was locked up and Parrish was tormented and Kira was broken and Malia was secretive and Stiles was haunted and Derek was gone and Deucalion...

Deucalion was at risk of falling into the hands of a psycho sociopath, blood thirsty and power hungry, evil and so far the only one who'd succeeded in what so many wanted to do: kill Scott McCall and tear apart his Pack. Despite whatever reservations Scott had regarding Soul Mates, he was even more against anyone being killed, regardless of what side they fought for, what their history was, what—if any—kind of relationship Scott had with them.

He finally hit the 'call' button.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Allison had once told Scott about La Bête de Gévaudan, back when his biggest problems had been trying not to fail English and that her dad had hunted murderous supernaturals. At the time, it felt like some made up fairytale, an embellished legend used to justify labeling people as monsters and killing them. Scott had never imagined that it could be real.

He also never could've imagined that three soulless men who experimented with prolonging their own lives would try to resurrected the Beast... or that they'd succeed, using a member of Scott's own Pack to do so.

Mason was the childhood best friend of Scott's first beta-through-the-Bite, Liam, and had easily been folded into the Pack. His enthusiasm, his readiness to accept everything no matter how out there, his excitement for learning, his ability to go up against supernatural creatures and risk his life for his friends, all of it reminded Scott of Stiles. Hell, it felt as though Liam and Mason were the next gen version of Scott and Stiles, with Hayden playing the role of the other half of star-crossed lovers much as Allison had—which honestly concerned Scott regarding her fate, especially when he remembered what Derek had told him about Paige the night of Allison's funeral.

History wound up repeating as Mason turned out to be possessed by something evil, as he lost himself to the monster controlling him. Except this time, the human ally was further lost, transformed not only into a gargantuan beast, but also another person entirely.

The original Beast, the original monster Alpha Werewolf. Sebastien Valet. This was who appeared when the monster reverted back to human. This was who was now trying to stop them, to harm them, to bring them down and keep them there.

The Dread Doctors were no more, but Theo was still a threat and it was in long since abandoned tunnels that Scott saw Deucalion once more. His heart began to pound in excitement, adrenaline, trepidation, concern. Pale eyes were milky with blindness again, until Deucalion blinked it away to reveal the truth, and Scott grinned at the scent of Theo's confusion and anger at the epiphany that he'd been duped, that Deucalion and Scott had been a team the whole time. A quick jerk of the head had Theo paralyzed and down for the count, for the moment, and...

And Scott felt like the protag in some cheesy romance movie, long lost love finally returned. Deucalion looked better than ever, healthier, younger, stress lines gone and features relaxed. The sight of him alive, unbroken, standing before Scott...it allowed the Alpha to finally _breathe_ for the first time in way too long, like breaching the surface of the ocean for that first big inhale when his lungs had been burning and his vision blurring and body getting heavy.

His mom had revived him but Deucalion made him feel alive and Scott knew if this were a movie or TV show, it'd be the part where he rushed over and their lips would crash together in a passionate kiss that spoke of their feelings more than words ever could.

But it wasn't the movies.

It wasn't a TV show.

It was a gun going off and Deucalion falling and Scott screaming. It was a ringing in his ears and vision going red and claws coming out. It was Argent pointing a gun at his father, the trigger-man, and Gerard pointing one right back and words Scott couldn't make out over the static in his head. It was a cane sword being tossed to him and Liam dragging him away and a distant gunshot as one Argent shot the other.

Fury and fear were Scott's fuel as he and his beta fought Sebastien, fought the man who threatened to take away their friend, their lives. But the resurrected man easily bested them, Liam too young and inexperienced, Scott too distracted by what was happening elsewhere, neither wanting to do anything to Sebastien that could cost them Mason. Sebastien had no such scruples, a beast in this form as well, telling Scott he fought without a killer instinct—a fact the young Alpha had long since known and accepted—telling Scott he'd teach him how to go for the throat before sinking his claws into the back of the younger man's neck.

Images flashed before Scott's eyes, memories of those he loved and cared about. Deucalion, his Pack, his mom, Stiles' dad, Argent, his daughter Allison.

Allison again.

Then once more.

Sebastien focused on her in particular, murmuring the name “Marie-Jeanne”, scent turning melancholic, remorseful. Scott took advantage of the distraction to free himself just as Lydia appeared, neck bandaged and eyes hazy but throat now working as she Banshee screamed for Mason. Their friend returned to them and the Beast took off in the form of smoke, only for Parrish to catch it as prophesied centuries ago.

Only the prophesy hadn't included Scott finishing La Bête off by stabbing him with the cane sword, as Allison's ancestor once had. He liked to think she was smiling down, proud, not just of him but of the entire Pack.

Kira finished off Theo with the help of her katana, the Skinwalkers, and the bastard's own long-dead sister. Argent had managed to disarm his father with a single, non-fatal shot. And Scott raced through the tunnels to find Deucalion thankfully still alive and as he dropped to his knees next to his slumping Soul Mate, the Alpha didn't hesitate or resist the urge to give into the cheesy scripted cliché of kissing the man with a passion that felt like had come from his own soul.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The thing with clichés was that one can never recall when they first heard it or know who originally came up with it.

“_The more things change the more they stay the same_” was one that Scott was especially relating to and thinking of often.

He gave Hayden the Bite, making her a full Werewolf and not a Chimera experiment with a rapidly dwindling life span, and she officially joined the Pack. As did Mason's boyfriend, Corey, who opted to remain as he was. Parrish and Lydia officially got together, no longer having to deal with the looming question of what exactly he was or worries he'd hurt her.

But as Scott welcomed new members, he also had to say goodbye to others. Kira had a deal to keep with the Skinwalkers and Malia was going with her this time—although the trip turned out to be shorter than anyone expected and the twosome returned a month later, Mated and anchored and stable. Scott also had to watch his own Soul Mate leave once more, the Omega having healed up thanks to Deaton's help, Deucalion explaining that it was better this way. In his opinion, Scott was still young and had made it clear he wasn't interested in Soul Mates. Despite the kiss in the tunnels, it was far too quickly for his mind to have changed so drastically and the action could be chalked up to adrenaline and/ or relief that they'd both survived the life-threatening danger. Scott needed to grow and Deucalion needed to give him the space to do so.

Scott couldn't find it in himself to argue, couldn't find a lie or flaw in that logic. So he rubbed his cheek against Deucalion's in a way of scent marking him, ignoring the sensible part of him reminding him that it wouldn't last, and promised to keep in touch.

That night, he upheld his tradition with Stiles, drinking stolen liquor as they discussed plans for the future, ignoring the fact that neither included their Soul Mates for reasons far different than only a couple years prior. Stiles finally realized what everyone had known all along and decided on a career in criminal justice. Scott declared that he'd be spending a year or so at Beacon County Community College before transferring to UC Davis for veterinary studies. Both pretended like that would be enough.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of Scott's senior year passed by. It wasn't exactly uneventful, but it was definitely lacking in supernatural drama. Thankfully.

His dad made another reappearance, having been gone since the assassins had tried to kill the Pack, and the two had a long overdue conversation regarding the supernatural, the elder McCall's original disappearing act, and everything in between. There was still tension between them and Scott didn't forgive him, but he knew it was a good first step in a long journey they both felt ready to take.

After their original dismay at their daughters essentially eloping, Kira's parents and Malia's dad—her foster one, since she refused to acknowledge Peter as a relation on any level—joined together for a belated reception in celebration. The party was lavish and Scott wondered what kind of money the Yukimuras even had, only to find out the one genetic relative Malia recognized she had—a cousin Scott was all too familiar with—had donated a substantial amount to the budget as a Mating gift. Not all was used however, the rest going towards a fund for an apartment to share when they both headed off to Berkeley.

Lydia was the valedictorian at their graduation, a fact that surprised literally no one. She celebrated a week later by Mating Parrish, something her dad blatantly disapproved of—which only made her more adamant that she was doing the right thing. Stiles and Scott spent another night drinking, toasting their status as the last two singles standing. It was getting to be a bad habit and Scott worried over Stiles' predisposition to alcoholism, but the Omega assured him it was fine.

And it was.

Things were absolutely fine.

Summer passed without incident as it always did, lulling Scott into what he believed was a false sense of security. As the next school year started and the Pack went their separate ways, he kept expecting shit to hit the fan.

It never did.

Kira and Malia settled in at Berkeley. Lydia began her quest for a Fields Medal at MIT. Stiles joined an FBI training program at Quantico. Scott began his required courses at BCCC. The younger kids started their own senior years and future planning.

Really, the only surprise was Derek unexpectedly turning up in Virginia, knocking on Stiles' door, bruised and blooded from a bar fight with a human. Stiles joked that the most shocking part of the whole thing was Derek actually winning a fight and Scott laughed, was genuinely happy for his best friend, even if it meant he lost the only person in his life who could relate to what Scott was going through in regards to Soul Mates.

He called Deucalion for the second time that night.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It wasn't that Scott hadn't followed through on his promise to keep in touch, because he had. Texting Deucalion was almost second nature at that point, starting only when he had news to share, growing more frequent with each passing week. It had gotten to the point where they were now texting throughout the day, off and on when not busy, whether it was major updates or mundane happenings.

The frequency of their messaging became more often than those Scott exchanged with Stiles, something he would never actually tell his best friend of course. Hell, he didn't even tell Stiles he was exchanging texts with his Soul Mate in the first place, knowing Derek had long since ditched his phone, and not wanting to further upset his best friend that he had something the Omega didn't or couldn't.

Regardless, the texts that were exchanged, no matter the volume, were all the communication that took place between Scott and Deucalion. It allowed the Alpha to get to know his Soul Mate on several levels, know how he'd spent his day, what he liked or didn't, gain valuable insight and advice for both every day life as well as leading a Pack and how to balance both things. Yes, it was tedious at times, typos, autocorrect, having to wait for those dots to stop bouncing and a new reply to show, how his hands would cramp after a late night of messaging, but Scott never hit 'call' or 'FaceTime' and neither did Deucalion.

It was obvious the Omega was respecting what he'd previously said about giving Scott room to grow, space to get his mind straight, so he rarely initiated contact. For Scott, talking on the phone felt too personal, too close, and it was a step he wasn't ready to take.

Until that night.

In the dark of his lifelong bedroom, Scott hit the dial button. At the sound of that first “hello?”, he felt everything click into place, get set to rights. The stress and upset and jealousy melted away like snow on a warm day and Scott felt thawed, alive once again.

They talked about nothing and everything. Scott was sure Deucalion could tell something heavy was on his mind but never broached the topic, let Scott work around it. There was no mention of Soul Mates or defining what they were to each other, currently situated in a gray area of in-between. Not quite friends, maybe more, maybe less.

Just Scott and Deuc.

They stayed on the phone until the room grew lighter and the sun grew harder to ignore. After hanging up, Scott listened to his mom get ready for work and thought about everything he'd been trying so hard to ignore.

Time was starting to prove that his original thoughts on Soul Mates weren't right. It wasn't always a tragedy. It wasn't always a fairytale either. It just... was. Just because two people were meant to be didn't mean it wouldn't take work, it wouldn't be a long journey to get to that final destination. Lydia and Parrish had fought through questions of who they were. Malia and Kira had fallen away into their own struggles before coming back together. Derek had left to take care of unfinished business and better himself before being ready for Stiles and what they could be. And Scott...

Scott needed to figure out if he was ready, _really_ ready to try. He couldn't do this out of obligation or loneliness or defiance or anything along those lines. It wasn't fair to himself, to Deucalion, to what they could be. It was a major life changing decision, something not to be taken lightly. It was more of the deep consideration he'd put into the decision to give Hayden the Bite rather than the spur of the moment instinct of sinking his teeth into Liam's arm on that hospital roof.

Scott had faced countless life or death scenarios that all hinged on his decision, all in his short three years as a Werewolf.

This felt bigger than all of them combined.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Fall rolled into winter, into spring, into summer.

His mom began dating Stiles' dad in a move both sons highly approved of.

Stiles got Mated in a lowkey ceremony in the Preserve, soon followed by Derek buying his family's land back from the county to build a new home, a project to keep himself busy while Stiles went to school.

Liam, Hayden, Mason, and Corey all graduated, celebrated by another party at the Martin lake house.

The Pack reunited in Beacon Hills for holidays and special occasions and kept in touch the rest of the time. Scott remembered Stiles' fear regarding them all falling apart after graduation and Stiles waved him off, claiming to have gotten over it months ago, before they'd even graduated themselves. The Alpha wasn't sure if it was the truth or just bluster to cover up his previous anxiety, but it didn't seem to matter as he sat relaxed and easy amongst all their friends.

And Scott had to admit that it made the Pack Alpha in him feel a whole lot more at ease when surrounded by the other members of his group. Pack-mates by choice, by Bite, by love, bonds forged in fires set by those trying to harm them. They'd been broken apart but came back together stronger than ever, reminding Scott of the ceramic bowls and teacups the Yukimuras had that were cracked then fixed with gold fillings.

It also made him painfully aware of who was missing, whether they'd been taken by fate, left on their own accord, or staying away to create room for growth. As rude as it felt, there were some who were gone that Scott wanted to stay gone, felt better without them around. Others he missed and often wondered if they were all right, what they were up to. One person in particular was missed on a deeper level and Scott knew things would be better with him around, that he was a necessary piece worth more than all the gold fillings in the world.

~*~*~*~*~*~

August brought another school year and an anxiety that something evil was lurking around the corner. Scott figured the feeling was Pavlovian at that point and it would take years of peace—if such a thing were possible—before it would go away. He'd always figured he and his Pack-mates all suffered some form of PTSD to varying degrees considering all they'd been through in high school, but it wasn't as though they could go to therapy and tell some human stranger all about the monsters they'd fought and demons they'd slayed and how none of it was a metaphor for something internal and psychological. They'd all get thrown in a psych hospital and none were eager to return to anything even remotely resembling Eichen House.

Leaving Beacon Hills—and his mom in particular—was difficult. As much as he liked to believe himself to be an optimist and look for the good in people, he was also realistic and had been through enough to know every day couldn't be sunshine and roses. The pendulum had to swing back eventually. Knowing Derek, Parrish, and Sheriff Stilinski were still in Beacon Hills helped ease some of Scott's worries but he knew the anxiety would remain. He was an Alpha Werewolf away from his Pack, from his territory, from land he'd been gifted to protect by the legendary Talia Hale.

He'd be home soon, he knew. Three short years, visits during summers and holidays in between. In the meantime...

In the meantime, he was moving into his first place, moving out of his childhood home.

Moving in with his Soul Mate.

Scott wasn't sure if it was too soon or if it was about damn time, but he and Deucalion had picked out a loft style apartment that suited both their tastes and was within their budget, deciding it was their temporary den until they both moved back to Beacon Hills permanently. The Alpha had made it clear he wouldn't mind living elsewhere—despite the tugging at his gut contradicting his words—but Deucalion had in turn made it clear that he was ready to settle in one place. As a wolf without a Pack, he had no significant ties to any particular place, not anymore, yet he understood the pull of one's territory. He wasn't about to take Scott away from his.

Besides, Deucalion had further explained, home to him was wherever Scott was, the two finally able to move on from a tumultuous history and realize what it was they truly wanted.

And as Scott fell asleep to Deucalion's breathing and woke up to his smiling face, he had to agree with the sentiment about home.

To think, he'd been adamant about not wanting any of this.


End file.
